


The Great Blue Dragon

by Asklepios



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Hannibal Loves Will, Hannibal is delighted, M/M, Smitten Hannibal, Will is a dragon, yep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 01:55:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12355044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asklepios/pseuds/Asklepios
Summary: Hannibal is very surprised—but nonetheless entirely pleased—to learn that Will Graham is a dragon. (Will, for his part, could quite happily do without sometimes being the size of small house, but it’s not like anyone asked his opinion on the subject.)





	The Great Blue Dragon

When Will had first called him to cancel their usual appointment only nine hours before the scheduled time, claiming to have come down with some form of illness that had rendered him dizzy and too unwell to drive safely, Hannibal had thought little of it at the time. He had offered to come by Will’s house with some hearty food to help speed along his recovery, but Will—his voice audibly strained despite his best efforts to hide it—had fervently assured the doctor that such actions would not be necessary; he would just sleep it off for a day or two. Hannibal had accepted the special agent’s apologies for the inconvenience and assured him that they could make up their appointment once Will was well again.

 

However, that call had been four days ago, and no one had seen or heard from Will since. No one had been able to contact him by phone, including Jack, who was quite obviously displeased that he hadn’t been able to reach his star profiler to have him come examine a murder scene the day before. While the fulfillment of Jack’s whims was by no means an actual priority for Hannibal, the psychiatrist would admit to himself that even he himself was beginning to grow concerned about Will’s health. The fact that the man had apparently been housebound for so long was worrying enough, but that Will either could not or would not answer his phone at all pushed Hannibal to clear his after-lunch schedule and make the drive out to Wolf Trap himself.

 

The moment Hannibal cleared the line of trees that formed a barrier between Will’s great flat fields and the road beyond, the predator in him could tell that something was off. There was a tension, a presence in the air that he had never encountered before, making the vast open space of Will’s refuge take on an impression of weight, of _threat._

 

On his guard, but undoubtedly curious, Hannibal parked several yards away from Will’s somewhat run-down car sitting unassumingly in the drive. As he turned off the engine, the stillness of the air became even more apparent, and as Hannibal stepped out of the car, he kept his keen senses attuned to his surroundings, waiting for the stillness of the air to break.

 

Only a moment later, there was a great cacophony of canine noise as Will’s motley pack of dogs came tearing around the side of the house, crowding close to Hannibal as they barked and whined in distress. They were acting more upset and ill-behaved than Hannibal had ever seen them, pressing close to his legs and making pleading noises, a few of them clearly moving in such a way as to try to lead him forward in the direction they had just came from. This, more than anything else so far, told Hannibal that something was quite direly wrong.

 

After a quick detour to fetch a utility knife from the glove compartment of his car—not the most effective knife for fighting or butchery, but one of the easiest to explain having in his possession outside of a kitchen—he followed the anxious pack around the side of the house towards the sizable shed Hannibal knew waited at the back, which had once held heavy farming equipment such as tractors and the like. As he rounded the house and the shed came into view, Hannibal drew to a slow, shocked halt. Extending out from the open doors of the shed was an enormous, long, and unmistakably reptilian _tail_. It was dark blue like the sky at the close of dusk, over twice as large as Hannibal himself, and utterly out of place in the doorway of Will Graham’s shed. Hannibal could see hints of a massive body beyond it in the shadows inside the shed, clearly the rest of the body of whatever great beast this tail belonged to.

 

Moving forward again with even greater caution then he had previously, Hannibal now noticed something he had previously missed in his surprise at the incredible tail; several yards away and off to the side of the shed, a mostly eaten cow carcass was sprawled out on the ground, the flesh of its sides and belly stripped away to expose the raw white structure of its skeleton. Hannibal didn’t bother moving closer to it to inspect it thoroughly just yet, but from his vantage point he could still see evidences of a few discernable teeth and claw marks. Something very large had been eating that animal, and Hannibal was quite sure he knew where, if not what, that creature was.

 

He still had yet to see any sign of Will, and numerous ideas of varying likelihood and desirability flew through his mind at speed. Hannibal came to a stop several meters beyond the reach of that great tail, examining the impossible appendage with a mix of fascination and—to a lesser degree—caution. Deciding, after a moment of consideration, to follow the edicts of his ever-reliable instincts, Hannibal called out in a clear, carrying voice: “Will!”

 

There was a sudden, started twitch of the tail before if seemed to come to life, swaying back and forth slightly in restless movement for a moment before falling still once more. With strengthening conviction in the impossible conclusion forming in his mind, Hannibal called out again, “Will!”

 

The tail visibly twitched again before stilling for a moment, though this time it seemed to be holding still with tension rather than returning to rest. Sure enough, after another moment the tail moved, drawing back into the shed as something massive shifted around inside, likely turning around. Hannibal could hear the soft scrape of scales against wooden walls and beams and see the shadows shifting as the creature moved, and waited patiently for it to emerge. After a few more moments the sounds of movement fell quiet as the owner of the tail either deliberated or gathered its courage. Then, with little fanfare, a massive snout slowly emerged from the depths of the shed, the overcast evening’s light falling softly across the jeweled blue scales. Soon came the creature’s eyes, dazed and rheumy as it squinted and slowly blinked against the light—eyes the exact same shade of blue as Will’s.

 

Hannibal watched with near rapture as the magnificent being swiveled its great head around on its long, elegant neck, searching for the source of the noise that had roused it from its repose. After a moment of slow, befuddled searching—it was obviously disoriented, either tired or ill or even both—those great grey-blue eyes landed on Hannibal where he stood steadily in place, not retreating a single step. And _then_ —

 

“Hannibal?” the great creature spoke. With _Will’s voice_. Hannibal drew in a sharp but nearly silent breath, the only outward sign of his surprise.

 

“Will,” he said once more, his voice filled with near reverence for the magnificent beast before him. Hannibal had suspected before he’d spoken, but to have confirmation that this was Will, that _his_ Will was this _tremendous thing_ —it was glorious.

 

Hannibal told him so: “You’re magnificent,” Hannibal said warmly, his eyes shining with greater emotion than he otherwise ever showed, partially discarding his carefully constructed person suit in the face of the majesty before him. It occurred to him in that moment that Will, too, wore a person suit before the rest of the world, one rather more literal than Hannibal’s own.

 

“Hannibal,” Will spoke again, his voice laced with apparent confusion as he squinted down at the man before him. “What are you—what are you doing here?” he asked. Hannibal noted that while his jaw moved up and down as he spoke, his mouth did not actually shape the words, his tongue and teeth and reptilian lips unengaged in his speech. Yet still the words were as clear as they ever were from Will’s human mouth.

 

“Are you—” Will paused, his head swaying a bit with apparent disorientation before he settled it on the ground with a heavy thud. He looked up at Hannibal—though only just, his head was proportionately massive with the great tail Hannibal had first seen—with an almost plaintive expression, eyes glazed and lidded with exhaustion. Sensing opportunity, Hannibal moved forward with slow, measured steps.

 

“I don’t—” Will said, his speech slightly strained from having his jaw pressed to the ground. “I don’t know—” he faltered, squeezing his eyes shut against what appeared to be a sudden surge of pain or discomfort, judging by the way he then groaned and rolled his head and neck against the ground to apparently lie on his side. Inside the shed there was a rustle of noise and movement of shadowed bulk to support the notion.

 

Hannibal hushed him gently, still moving forward, until he reached Will’s great scaled head. Moving around it to stand on the side of his brow rather than his lower jaw, he then reached down with great care and placed his hand on Will’s tremendous reptilian skull. Will’s eyes opened again at the touch, the massive spheres swiveling in their orbital sockets to fix on Hannibal in bemusement. He was clearly struggling to grasp what was going on—perhaps he had a fever, if such things could affect beings such as he—and was simply letting the doctor do as he wanted. Hannibal smiled benevolently down at him, charmed and awed and filled with renewed fervor. He had already felt possessive, even protective, of Will Graham before this discovery, fascinated with his mind and charmed by his manner, the way he was brusque yet courteous, introverted and shy yet starved for affection; but knowing what he knew now, having seen what a tremendous and rare creature Will was, he knew that he would _have_ Will for his own. His unique mind, his beauteous countenance, his newfound breathtaking nobility of form would all come to stand under Hannibal’s guiding hand, held close in his protection and secure in his possession. Hannibal was a purveyor of great beauty, a lover of the unique and the rare, and Will Graham was all these things and more.

 

Mind still swirling with all the great potential the future held, Hannibal focused his energies on the care and preservation of his prize. It was clear to the doctor that Will had fallen ill somehow, his disorientation and weakness obvious signs of poor health. Perhaps Will’s current state could also be attributed to his illness—perhaps Will was unable to hold his human form when he was badly sick. Hannibal inhaled carefully, analyzing the scents he could detect on the air. There tended to be some common scent factors for unwellness across various species, though the particulars tended to differ. Sure enough, Will smelled perceptibly ill, although Hannibal could determine nothing more specific from smell alone. The scaled skin under his hand—smooth and pebbled, like a snake—seemed cool, though he wasn’t sure if Will even could suffer any sort of fever in this reptilian form.

 

“My head hurts,” Will complained lowly, rolling his great blue head against the ground and nearly dislodging Hannibal’s hand.

 

“Hush, Will, I am here,” Hannibal soothed, gently stroking the brow ridge over Will’s left eye, the closest to him. Will let out a rumbling noise somewhere between a great sigh and a moan, trustingly closing his eyes again. He was so badly out of sorts that he had not even questioned or commented on Hannibal seeing him in this form, nor had he made any sort of note of the cow carcass easily within sight of where he lay. Will was clearly disoriented and in some degree of pain, yet he easily capitulated to Hannibal’s will and succumbed to his care. Hannibal smiled down at the great creature in satisfaction, carefully stroking his massive head until Will let out a sound not entirely unlike a purr.

 

Hannibal had found himself quite a magnificent prize—he need now only figure out how to either nurse a creature the size of a small house back to health, or to encourage Will to transform back into his human shape so that he may care for him that way…but Hannibal was not worried. He was very resourceful, and there was so much to be gained from a successful venture here, with these initial steps, that he was highly motivated to succeed. He looked forward to savoring his victory with Will at his side.

**Author's Note:**

> For reference on how Will looks when he talks in his dragon form, see the animal gods in Princess Mononoke; they move their jaws up and down and words come out, but they don’t actually shape their mouths around the words and form them with tongue and teeth the way people do when they talk. It's pretty cool and pretty weird.


End file.
